


like the bough of a willow tree

by immortal_trash (Quill_A)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bottom Nicky, D/s undertones, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Light Bondage, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Porn Without Plot, They love each other so much, Topping from the Bottom, because obviously, grapes as sexual aid, or their version of it anyway, service top Joe, sword fighting as foreplay, this is just 6k worth of filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quill_A/pseuds/immortal_trash
Summary: “Mmm,” Nicky hums gently, fingers finding the dips of Yusuf’s hips and resting against them. He smells of summer heat and sweat, deliciously damp from the sun and Yusuf wants to devour him whole. He grips the hair at the base of his neck and tugs. Nicky lets out a rough, surprised exhale, and Yusuf takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue inside and pulling his head back to expose his throat.He runs his mouth over the delicate skin just below his jaw, letting his teeth graze over it a bit. “Is this all you’ve been doing since I’ve been gone?”Nico’s fingers tighten. “I don’t know. How long have you been gone?”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 9
Kudos: 286





	like the bough of a willow tree

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. this is just porn. if you're looking for historical accuracy, i doubt you will find it. that said: enjoy!

Nico is shooting arrows into the trees behind their cottage when he returns from the market. He knows his presence has been noted. because despite his beloved’s intense concentration, he has a certain wolf-like sharpness about him which means that very little escapes his notice.

Yusuf does not have his animal-like patience and grace, of course. He prefers to run head first into situations and make it up as they go along. Nico can wait for hours for the perfect opportunity and then meticulously destroy everything with a few choice swipes of his sword. His kind, soft hearted, generous lover with the heart of a saint: quite the most terrifying being to ever wield a weapon.

Yusuf leans against a nearby tree, sighing as he watches him. When Nico is ready, he will bestow Yusuf with his attention. Until then, he is quite content to let his eyes rove over his form, the delicate dexterity of his fingers, the rigid line of his back, the sure, practiced way he strings his arrow and aims it. Yusuf can think of a dozen ways to break that concentration, each filthier than the last, but he stays very quiet and very still, lest he distract him. He’s not a very patient man, but Nico has taught him to be. He always finds the patience for Nico when he needs him to.

The arrow flies past, a smooth line, broken only slightly by a gentle breeze but Nico must have accounted for that because it makes its sure way to the target.

“Subhan-allah, Habibi, that was beautiful,” he finally says, unable to restrain himself any longer. Surely Nico can tear himself away for a little while.

“Flatterer,” he chides him gently, turning around to face him. He lets go of his quiver and lets it fall to the ground, closing the distance between them until he is close enough for Yusuf to curl his hand over the back of his neck, tilt his own face and press their lips together.

“Mmm,” Nicky hums gently, fingers finding the dips of Yusuf’s hips and resting against them. He smells of summer heat and sweat, deliciously damp from the sun and Yusuf wants to devour him whole. He grips the hair at the base of his neck and tugs, and Nicky lets out a rough, surprised exhale, and Yusuf takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue inside and pulling his head back to expose his throat.

He runs his mouth over the delicate skin just below his jaw, letting his teeth graze over it a bit. “Is this all you’ve been doing since I’ve been gone?”

Nico’s fingers tighten. “I don’t know. How long have you been gone?”

Yusuf huffs a laugh and pulls back, letting go of Nico’s now too-long hair and leaning back against the trunk of the tree. Nico looks at him, cheeks now flushed with the promise of pleasure and his eyes dark.

“What am I to do? I had to distract myself from your absence somehow,” he complains.

“You are a very dangerous man, _tesoro,_ ” Yusuf tells him, hooking his finger into the front of his shirt and pulling him back again, insatiable, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I got you something.”

Nico raises his eyebrows, intrigued. “Oh?” Yusuf got him gifts as often as he could. Expensive things made him uncomfortable and guilty, so Yusuf had learnt to avoid spending excessive amounts of money on him. “You know I have no need for anything else but you.”

“You always say that. But I got you something anyway.” He reaches into his bag and extracts the bunch of grapes he’d bought at the market: plump, fresh, bright green.

Nico’s face alights at the sight of it. “Yusuf!” he cries excitedly, and reaches for it.

Which of course, was what he had been waiting for. Yusuf quickly keeps it out of his reach, just above their heads. He is only just a tiny bit taller than Nico, but he is still going to use that to his advantage.

“What are you doing?” Nico demands, all mock irritation. “Am I to beg?”

“A very appealing suggestion,” Yusuf muses. “Not quite what I had in mind.”

Nico drops his arm from where it was reaching for the grapes and instead he presses a hand over Yusuf’s chest. Tilts his head, regards him with hooded eyes, voice dropping to a low purr. Evil, evil man. “I would gladly give you anything you desired, with or without those grapes. So tell me, _habibi_ , what is this about? I am very curious.”

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

Nico raises his eyebrows. “Bored? Never. I have you-“

Yusuf takes his hand in his own, brings it to his mouth and brushes his lips over the knuckles. “That’s not what I meant. You are happy. And content. But I know you, Nicolo. I think you’re longing for the rush of a fight again.”

“Yusuf-“

“You’ve been hacking these poor trees to pieces.”

Nico looks mildly offended. “To keep my skills sharp,” he tells him defensively. Yusuf laces their fingers together and chuckles.

“I cannot ever tell if you are a priest or a warrior at heart.”

“Both, I think,” Nico decides, with an incline of his head.

“Mm, I think so too. I know you can’t deny it, Nico. It’s been weeks since we’ve had to cut a band of thieves or goons to pieces and I think you miss it.”

Nico looks at him for a second, ocean-coloured eyes narrowed and calculating. “Do you know,” he begins slowly, “I love you more than life itself.”

“And is my greatest privilege to be the object of your love, my heart.”

“But you’re a very perceptive bastard.”

Yusuf throws his head back and laughs, and Nico joins him, with that sweat, ridiculous mix of snort and giggle that is so uniquely him.

When they are slightly more quiet, Yusuf takes a step towards him, curling a finger beneath his chin and gently lifting his face so he can look into his eyes.

“So. Fight with me. Hmm? Practice your skills on me. And if you win, you can have these grapes. And then, tomorrow, we can leave for the next village over and see if someone’s been harassing them again and we can do some good, just like you want.”

Instead of saying anything Nico wraps his arms around his shoulders, pins him to the tree with his body and kisses him slowly, languorously. Takes his time until Yusuf’s mouth is swollen and his skin is buzzing with need. When he pulls away, he cups a hand over his cheek and pecks him on the lips. “You know me so well, _cuore mio_.”

“Mmmm,” Yusuf tries to catch his mouth again but Nico weaves out of the way. 

“But you are going to lose very, very badly,” he promises, with a sweet smile.

  
  
  
When Yusuf had first seen him, he couldn’t even hold his sword properly. But he had a frankly demonic level of tenacity. He had seemed to have taken it in his stride that his god did not want him to die, which meant he became more reckless, more ruthless, more dangerous. He didn’t care how many times he was stabbed, or strangled, or crushed under a rock. He kept rising, snarling and spitting, practically foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. _Infidel! Filth! Demon! I will keep killing you can’t fucking come back!_ Of course, he got better and better and better until they were evenly matched and whenever Yusuf saw him on the battlefield again, he would feel a shiver of fear and something unmistakably _other_ down his spine.

Nico moved like... a cat. Quick, graceful, unexpectedly brutal. His face hardly ever betrayed anything, eyes calm and guileless even as he stood over you and ran his sword through your eye while his foot rested on your chest.

Yusuf thinks of that particular incident with something that is a mix between desire and fondness.

Fighting with him has become second nature by now, they move so perfectly together it is very difficult to beat the other. Yusuf knows the way he thinks, and Nico can anticipate his moves faster than he can think them. But Nico is also distracting as hell, and when the tie that holds his hair together falls loose and it falls to chin in a bronze-gold mess, Nico almost manages to get the upper hand. Yusuf narrows his eyes at him, thinking that perhaps Nico did that on _purpose._

He pushes him harder and harder, until his limbs are trembling and his body is drenched in sweat. He can feel his clothes sticking to his skin. But Nico is, if nothing else, very dedicated. He throws himself into whatever he is doing with determination. Always a perfectionist, his beloved.

“You can surrender, of course,” he suggests lightly, jumping neatly out of the way of Yusuf’s scimitar. His voice is breathless, but his cheeks are pink and he’s enjoying himself, which is the only thing Yusuf cares about now. “If it’s getting too much for you.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Yusuf says darkly, smirking. “I’m not quite at your mercy yet, _hayati_.”

“We’ll see,” Nico promises, winking, trying to cut at his stomach but Yusuf dodges it.

It ends with Yusuf on his knees, Nico’s sword just below his chin, tipping his face upward. His own scimitar lies uselessly at his side, having been whacked out of his hand by Nico only a second before. They hadn’t even broken each other’s skin.

“You do look quite lovely like this,” Nico says thoughtfully, standing before him. His chest is heaving, and his hair is plastered to his forehead, his temples. It is taking every ounce of Yusuf’s self control not to just pull him down by the wrist and then pin him onto the grass, get him underneath his body.

He looks _otherworldly._ “I’m beginning to think that right before you kill someone, they have a momentary fantasy of fucking you.”

“You think everybody wants to fuck me,” Nico says, rolling his eyes.

“Clearly you do not see yourself from my eyes,” Yusuf explains, voice dropping to something suggestive. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Strong demands from a man on his knees,” he says. And then he lowers his sword and steps away, evidently to claim his prize. Yusuf starts to get up.

“I didn’t say you could move,” Nico interjects smoothly, and he freezes, gut tightening, blood suddenly starting to rush in his ears. 

Oh. So _that’s_ how it’s going to be. 

Biting his lip, Yusuf lowers himself back onto his knees. He cannot see Nicolo, but he can hear him at his side, rummaging in his bag. He feels like he is aflame, far too aware of his own body. Sweat trickles down the back of his neck. He dutifully waits for Nico to return, palms on his knees, fingers spread wide. It is very difficult for him to sit still, like this. Nicolò knows that very well. Quite possibly that is why he seems to be taking his own sweet time.

“I think,” he says, as he comes back, but instead of coming before him he walks behind him. Yusuf can feel him kneeling, hot breath against the back of his neck. “If you really were at my mercy, I would tie you up first. Make sure you didn’t escape.”

Yusuf licks his lips. His mouth is very dry. “Is that so.”

He is usually much more poetic than this, but Nicolo has stolen all of his words. All he can think about right now is how hard he is, just at Nico’s proximity, the dark tenor of his voice. Nico hums, there is the soft press of his lips beneath his ear. “Give me your hands.”

Yusuf isn’t even embarrassed by how quickly puts his arms behind his back. He has no idea what Nico’s plan is, or what he wants, but he is eager to see it through. Whatever Nico wants, Yusuf will give him a thousand times over. For now it seems, he wishes to tie Yusuf’s wrists together with what feels like the scarf he uses to keep the sun off his neck.

“I know you could free yourself in a second,” Nico says in his ear. “But I will be very disappointed if you do.”

“You know I would never dream of disappointing you.”

“Yes, you _are_ very obedient when it is to your favour,” Nico teases him, finally giving the knot a final pull to check its tightness. It is very...thorough. Quite possibly it will take Yusuf more than a few seconds to free himself. 

Nico crawls to the front of him, and kneels. He has the grapes in his hand. 

Yusuf licks his lips. “I see you’ve wasted no time in claiming your spoils of war.”

This earns him a grin, feral and sharp, and then Nico plucks a plump grape off the bunch and sticks it in his mouth. Yusuf thinks that no civilized man could possibly eat like that, licking at his lips and moaning like he’s being fucked. 

But certainly Nico is here only to torture him, to watch knowingly while Yusuf struggles against his binds, torn between wanting to obey and wanting to tear himself free just so he can capture Nicky’s juice- sweetened mouth in his and show him what happens when you torment your beloved so cruelly. 

“Good?”

“Very sweet,” Nico tells him, licking his lips. “Would you like a taste?” 

He holds out a grape between his fingers and Yusuf leans forward, and Nico holds on to it so that he has no choice but to close his mouth over the tips of his fingers and suck. 

Torment, he reflects again, as he chews and swallows. 

Clearly delighted by the sight of Yusuf squirming on his knees, Nico continues to feed him the grapes, alternating between fellating them when it is his turn and shoving his fingers into Yusuf’s mouth. And Yusuf, for his own part, was now so hard he was feeling light headed, considering it felt like all the blood in his body had rushed to his cock. 

“You would not be so cruel even to your prisoners,” he finally says, when they are done and Nico throws the barren bunch aside. He wipes the corner of Yusuf’s mouth with his thumb. 

“You think me cruel?” Nico gasps at him like he’d offended him deeply. “I wonder, would I do _this_ to my prisoner?”

He tips himself forward and kisses him, and Yusuf nearly loses himself then and there. “ _Hayati,_ ” he whispers, but that’s all he can see before Nicolò is climbing into his lap, cupping his hands over his ears. 

“Surely I wouldn’t do this,” he continues, rocking his hips against him, kiss turning wet and filthy and deliciously messy. Yusuf feels his teeth at his bottom lip bite and pull, Nico’s length digging into his hip. 

Yusuf will surely die if he cannot touch him. He wants to place his hands over his waist, slide them over the ridge of his spine, tangle them into his hair. Wrap his fingers around his cock. 

He twists his wrists behind himself. He won’t, though. Nico has asked him for this, and Yusuf will be patient, and good, and when Nico finally lets him have him, he will worship his body like he deserves.

“My lovely, dear, sweet Yusuf,” Nico croons, rolling his hips over and over again, dragging his clothed cock over Yusuf’s, friction making him hiss between his teeth and jerk upward. “Cara mio. Habibi. I think I should like to keep you like this, and take your cock. Take you in my mouth as far as I can, until I’m choking on it, suck you until you can barely speak.”

Yusuf feels himself twitch in his breeches. He takes a low, shaky exhale, trying to push the image out of his head for fear of him putting an end to this before it even begins. “Nico, your filthy mouth will be the end of me.”

(And how did Nico even learn to talk like this, this formerly blushing virgin? Yusuf still remembers the first time Nicky had taken him, skittish and afraid he would hurt him, asking him every few moments if he was alright, struggling to hold himself back even though he clearly wanted to fuck him through the mattress)

“I should hope not,” Nicky says disapprovingly. His fingers find Yusuf’s curls and pull his head back. “I am not done with you, not by far.”

With that he presses a quick kiss to his mouth and then Yusuf is being pushed down into the ground, gentle but firm hands at his chest. Nico arranges him so that he is comfortable, wrists now pinned to each other over his head. He sits astride him, strong thighs on either side of him, and Yusuf can see how obscenely his length presses against the front of his trousers. His own mouth waters at the sight of it. Maybe later, Nico will let him pleasure him that way. Return the favor. 

“You always bruise so beautifully,” Nico says, skimming a finger down the front of his throat. “I hate to see them fade.”

Yusuf swallows. “You are always welcome to mark me again, my love.”

Nico grins wickedly down at him, eyes flashing. “Oh I know.”

He bends over him and kisses him again, makes Yusuf near-delirious with want, just from the clever use of his tongue and teeth. When Yusuf had kissed him the first time, unable to keep his affection concealed any longer, he’d been stiff and unyielding. Yusuf had thought he’d made a terrible mistake, and he’d opened his mouth to beg for forgiveness , only to have Nico press their mouths together again, clumsy and inexpert. “I- I don’t know how, forgive me,” he’d murmured. “I’ve never. I’ve never- do it again. Please. Don’t stop.”

There is nothing virginal or inexperienced about the man on top of him now. Nico licks into his mouth and Yusuf lets him, lets his mouth go slack so Nico can do with him as he pleases. All he can do is groan and hitch his hips upward in the hope that he will have mercy on him soon. 

“ _T_ _esoro_ ,” Nico tells him softly, pulling away and hovering above him. “I love you.” His mouth is red and wet. Yusuf stares into his eyes, sometimes the colour of sea glass, sometimes the colour of a stormy sky, and feels his heart squeeze in his chest. 

“And I you,” he replies readily, instinctually. “Beyond measure and reason. Without thought. It is a fact as unchanging as the passage of day and night, as the shift in the seasons.”

“My poet. My beautiful artist,” Nico says tenderly, and then proceeds to slither down his body in a way that makes Yusuf less like a poet and more like a dam about to burst. He sets his mouth to his neck and sucks at him with alacrity, with a very clear goal in mind. Yusuf squirms and grinds against him, wherever he can find some friction. He curses in several languages, as Nico bites bruises into his skin that wax and wane, wax and wane.

“Nicolò. My heart. Sweetheart. Please-“

“Impatient,” Nico growls against his collarbone. 

“For you, always.”

“You have been quite good so far, I will reward you.”

Nico makes his way down, rucking up his shirt and pressing kisses to the exposed skin, Yusuf can feel his muscles clench under the feather light touch of his lips. He aches to weave his fingers into Nico’s hair, guide him to where he wants his mouth the most. But Nico knows, and Yusuf just has to be patient. 

He nips at his belly, gently, but enough for it to sting, and Yusuf practically thrashes underneath him. But Nico has his hands bracketing his hips, keeping him firmly on the ground. “If you do not stay still, I think I will stop,” he says, hot breath whispering over his cock.

“Fuck, I think I’ll die if you do that, Nico,” Yusuf says shakily. 

“Good, when you come back we can try again, and then perhaps you will behave yourself.”

Nico is now pulling his laces apart with his teeth. With some effort, Yusuf supports himself on his elbows, to try and look at him. Nico raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. He keeps his eyes fixed on him as he pulls at the string and finally draws his cock out. He doesn't look away, not when he sets the flat of his tongue against the underside and slides it up, not when he closes his mouth just over the tip and sucks. 

“Nicolò,” Yusuf says weakly. “Please.”

He can think of nothing else beyond the warmth of Nico’s mouth around his cock. Stringing words together is like moving through molasses. Nicolò can tell, because he does not oblige. Smug even with his mouth occupied he takes in only the tip, eyes wide and innocent-looking like he’s never done this before. 

“Oh god,” Yusuf groans, nearly bursting at the sight of Nicolo like that, and feeling like shoving upwards, but Nico’s hands hold him steady, _fuck,_ lord, give him strength. Finally, _finally,_ he feels Nico taking him into his mouth, achingly slowly, moaning softly as he inches it down. 

“Fuck, fuck. Nico, my love, mi amore, you are beautiful, _fuck.”_

Nico hums again because he likes it when Yusuf praises him when he is like this, so he continues. He calls him every endearment he can think of, and then some more. Nico teases him, pops his mouth off in between to bite at the insides of his thighs, his hips. His fingers wander to his ribs, touch always reverent and gentle. When he starts to bob his head up and down, the slide of his mouth growing sloppy and slick, Yusuf becomes predictably non verbal. Words turn into groans of pleasure, incoherent begging. 

Nico, when he takes him into his mouth, has no inhibitions. He will always be filthy about it, let Yusuf shove his cock down his throat until he is making little choking noises that make Yusuf panic, only to find that Nico seems nothing short of blissful. Even now, when Yusuf looks at him, his cheeks are flushed scarlet, eyes wide and dark, the corners of his mouth wet with spit. 

He watches, breath caught in his throat as his cock slides in and out of the circle of his lips, Nico hollowing his cheeks and swallowing around him, taking him deeper.. Yusuf knows the feel of his throat around him intimately, and yet every time it feels different. Better. 

He has written poems and poems about this very image of Nico, his mind running faster than his hand, until he has a page full of filthy words of devotion to his lover. Because Nico inspires nothing less than devotion, worship. In his younger days, he might have thought such self indulgent pleasure sinful. But Nico? Nico is divinity itself. 

“Nico, my heart, I am going to come in your mouth.”

Nico pulls off of him with an obscene pop, a string of saliva still hanging from his mouth stretches and snaps. Yusuf’s entire body mourns the loss, he has to grit his teeth and force himself to think of something other than release. “Hmm,” Nico murmurs, and then licks his lips, wipes the corner of his mouth with the heel of his hand. Yusuf’s aching cock twitches. “But that is not a part of my plan,” he says, voice a little rough. He climbs on top of him again, heavy weight pressing him down into the ground, lips at his ear. “Because you are going to come with your cock inside of me, stretching me wide. Splitting me apart. I want to be dripping with you, Yusuf.” 

Yusuf thinks his self control so far has been frankly godly so far, but even though he is immortal, he is still a man. “Fucking hell, Nicolò, I am begging you, be a little considerate, I am barely hanging on here.”

Nico giggles, no doubt taking great pleasure in Yusuf’s plight. He buries his face into the side of his neck, kissing under his ear. “Don't worry. You’re going to enjoy this, hayati. I promise.”

“I enjoy everything with you, so I don’t doubt that, but if you love me, you will hurry, or you will have to use your own fingers to fuck yourself.”

“Grumpy,” Nico admonishes him gently, and he is sitting astride him again, pushing up his shirt to his shoulders, bending down to press a kiss to the middle of his chest. “I will take good care of you.” 

Yusuf watches as Nico removes his own shirt, pulling it over his head. His cock drips at the sight of him, all his pale skin, his broad shoulders, the slight softness of his belly. He wants to bury his face in it. “You bought more oil today,” Nico tells him, smirking, picking up the small bottle he’d brought with him, evidently having found it in his bag. 

“We were almost out of it.”

“You are so thoughtful, my love,” Nico says, and how does he make something so tender sound so _filthy?_ He’s always had a gift for using very little words and saying quite a bit. Like everything else about him, Yusuf loves it. 

Nico unlaces himself, unabashed and gorgeous as he pulls his breeches off his legs and throws them to the side. Yusuf’s breath comes more harshly now, eyes caught on Nico’s cock, hard and gushing and god, what he wouldn’t do to touch him right now. Nico must seem the longing in his expression because his eyes soften and he strokes his cheek. “Later, I promise. Right now I want to have you like this.”

“And you will have what you want, habibi,” Yusuf croaks. Nico smiles at him, skin a lovely shade of pink, flushed right from his cheeks to his chest. 

“You like to watch me, do you not?” he pours the oil over his fingers. 

Yusuf leaks a bit more. “You know I do.”

( _I want you to fuck me,_ he’d told him abruptly over breakfast, barely a few weeks after he’d had Yusuf the other way around. At the time, Yusuf had nearly choked on his bread. Afterwards, coughing, he’d said, _Nico, my love, there’s no need to rush. We don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to._ Nico had been angry at him for saying that, at first. _Why would I ask you for something I don’t want? I am not a child._ But Nico had never done it before, he’d never felt something like that, and Yusuf had been very careful to pleasure him with his mouth or his hands on his cock so far. They worked out a compromise.

“ _I think you should use your fingers first, habibi. See how you like it,_ ” he’d told him that night, dripping oil over his fingers. Nico, dark-eyed and red cheeked had said, _And if I like it_ ? Yusuf smirked. _Then I am going to be a very happy man, and I will spoil you absolutely rotten_ he’d whispered in his ear, guiding Nico’s fingers to his hole. He watched as he fingered himself to completion, surprise evident on his face when he came in barely a minute. Yusuf made love to him that night sweetly and gently, drawing it out until Nico was tugging at his curls and begging him to let him come. Days later, Nico thought it would be a nice change of pace make him watch again. Yusuf could not find anything to complain about.)

And now he does the same. Yusuf can only watch the movement of his arm, the way he reaches behind himself, the way his eyes flutter closed, the way the slight discomfort on his face melts and is replaced by something more heated, blissful. 

“Fuck, Nico, the way you look-“

A breath shudders out of his mouth, and his muscles quiver as he works his fingers inside himself, opening himself up for his cock. He moans softly, and Yusuf feels a flash of worry. If Nico comes like this, he will surely weep. 

“I think I’m ready,” he finally says, hoarsely, (much to his relief) oiled hand coming to rest on his chest. He is wild eyed, hair an absolute mess, the tips dark with sweat. Yusuf has to clench his hands into fists to prevent himself from touching him. 

He does not trust himself to speak either. Nico keeps their eyes locked together as he uses one hand to grip the base of his cock, lifting himself slightly to steady himself over it. “Slowly,” Yusuf reminds him, because Nico is impatient like this. He nods, and then slides down on to him in a gentle glide, eyes fluttering shut. 

“ _Nicolò,”_ Yusuf breathes out, body shaking as Nico shifts around him, adjusting to his girth, fingernails digging into his skin. Yusuf can feel how taut he is, abdomen quivering, teeth marking red indents into his bottom lip. “Look at me, Nicolò, my love, my heart.”

Nico opens his eyes, a tiny whine escaping his mouth. He shifts forward, bracing himself on Yusuf’s chest. “God, I’m so- so _full,_ ” he whispers, somewhere between wonder and delight. 

“Please,” Yusuf pleads, and Nico’s smile becomes crooked. He moves, slowly at first, just a languorous drag of his hips. His hands run over his skin, cover his ribs and skim over his shoulders. Thumb tenderly running over the line of his jaw. 

“You are absolutely perfect,” he murmurs. “You fill me so perfectly. Stretch me so well. You are- _nnngh_ \- so good for me, hayati, so good for letting me take your lovely cock like this.”

Nicky trembles on top of him, the effort of slowing it down perhaps too much, and Yusuf, because he’s just a _little_ bit of a bastard, hitches his hips upward. It catches Nicolo off guard, makes him gasp out “ _Oh,”_ sweetly, eyes growing wide and slightly unfocused. “You’re cheating,” he accuses him breathlessly. 

“Look at you, Nico. I can’t help myself.”

Nico bites his lip and shakes his head like he disapproves of this, but his hips start to move a little faster. He raises himself on his thighs, muscles trembling as he hovers above his cock before he slides back down, Yusuf swearing as the slick heat of him envelops him once more. 

“Yes?” Nicky asks him, repeating the same motion over and over again, bringing him to the edge and pushing him back. “You like that, my love?”

“Fuck, fuck- Nico, please-“

Nico’s mouth falls open, he ducks his head and braces his palms on Yusuf’s chest and rides him with single minded focus, and Yusuf is entranced. The roll of his hips, the flex of his muscles, the way a twisted mess of words rush out of his reddened mouth- Genoese, Arabic, some Greek. He looks like something out of a fantasy, he can’t be real, this almost ethereal creature moving on his cock. 

“Nicolò,” Yusuf murmurs. “You are gorgeous like this, albi. I could watch you for hours. The way you look- words cannot do you justice. You are divine, my love, an undeserved blessing bestowed upon me.”

Nico looks at him, eyes so dark only a ring of blue grey is visible around the pupil. His pre come is dripping a mess onto his stomach, sweat traveling from his temples to his chin, sliding down his throat. Yusuf wants to raise himself, lick the salt off his skin. “How badly do you want me?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “So badly I can feel my bones breaking from the weight of it. I crave you incessantly, desperately, passionately, until there is no more room inside of me. I desire you even when you are by my side, it is a part of me always. I look at you and my heart breaks, Nico.”

Nico makes a sound like a sob, fingers scrabbling at his chest, arse slapping against his thighs. “ _Yusuf_ ,” he moans, helplessly. “I- I need-“

Yusuf fucks up into him again and he gasps. “Tell me, Nico. Anything.”

“God, amore mio, I want you to touch me,” he admits, looking almost _embarrassed,_ as if Yusuf would ever think less of him. “I want you to touch me,” he repeats. “I- can I-“

Yusuf shoves his interlocked wrists in front of him, and neither of them needs any affirmation. Nico quickly unties him and Yusuf barely waits a second before he places his hands on his waist, guides Nico through it, slows him down. 

“Yes, _yes,_ do that,” he encourages him, and Yusuf runs his palms over his belly, his chest, pulls at his nipples until Nico is moaning so loudly he is glad there is no one around for miles. 

“Beautiful, you are my sun and stars, _ya amar_. My light, my warmth, my heart.”

“Come here, come _here_ ,” he suddenly demands, vice like grip catching his wrists and pulling him up. Yusuf takes the hint and surges towards him, and they are kissing. It is sloppy and messy, Yusuf feels the sharp bite of Nico’s teeth on his lip, his jaw, catching his earlobe. 

He fists a possessive hand into his curls, growls into his mouth, Yusuf groans at the sweet sting and cups the back of his neck, licking into him with equal fervor. 

They pull away only to lean their foreheads against each other, panting. Yusuf stares into his eyes, close like this he can see the specks of blue and green and grey, can see where the sun has kissed freckles into the bridge of his adorable, beaky nose. “I love you. So much,” he says raggedly, and Nico peppers his face with kisses before leaning back for a more efficient angle. 

He grips his shoulders and Yusuf wraps his arms around his waist, cradling him against his lap. Nico fucks himself on his cock like that, while Yusuf licks his nipples, bites into his collarbone, his neck. His skin is covered in red marks from his teeth and his beard, and then it isn’t, so he does it again until his mouth is sore.

“Need you,” Nico demands, so he obediently wraps a hand around his cock, lets Nico fuck his fist. His hips move feverishly, chasing his own pleasure and Yusuf is lost, lost in his beauty, the way the late afternoon sunlight catches his skin and makes it glow, the way his eyes become clouded the closer he gets.

He comes inside of him moments later, fingers tangled in his hair, lips against his faintly stubbled cheek. “Oh god, Nico, _fuck-“_

“I can feel you, I can-“ Nico whispers fevently, nails scratching at his back, before he arches his spine with a rough moan, calling out his name and spilling his seed all over Yusuf’s chest, his stomach, his hand. 

Yusuf cups the back of his head with his sticky fingers and whispers encouragement to him, “Yes, Tesoro, come on me, _yes,_ ” until he is spent, until they both are tipping over onto the grass in exhaustion, Nico sprawling on top of him gracelessly. 

It could have been days or hours until they move, he has no idea. They both pant heavily, entwined together for a while. Sensation returns slowly and he twitches his nose as he faintly registers that Nico’s hair is tickling it. His softened cock slips wetly out of him and Nico rolls over on his back, Yusuf’s arm pillowing his head. His chest rises and falls rapidly until he catches his breath.

His own limbs are made of lead but he still finds it impossible not to stroke his fingers through Nico’s now damp hair. Nico hums approvingly, stretching like a cat. 

“It’s going to get cold in a bit,” Yusuf reminds him, after a few seconds. Nico, who he thinks might have fallen asleep, turns over on his side and pushes his face into his bicep and makes a skeptical noise. Yusuf smiles to himself, arm tightening around him, pulling him closer. He presses a kiss into the top of his head. Nico is always stubbornly lazy after a fuck, and will refuse to move unless there is something very pressing they must attend to. Yusuf comes to the not-unwelcome conclusion that he might have to throw him over his shoulder and take him back to their cottage. 

“I’m hungry,” Nico murmurs. _Ah._ Another reason he may be tempted to move.

“Really? I thought those grapes were very filling, myself.”

Nico bites his shoulder by way of reprimand. “Alright, alright,” Yusuf concedes, laughing. “If you get up, I will cook you dinner.”

  
  
***

They go home and bathe together, after which Yusuf cooks and they both eat like they’ve been starving for days. Yusuf spends the rest of the evening reading, Nico content to doze next to him, feet in his lap. When they finally go to bed, Yusuf wraps his arms around him and pulls him close to his chest, rubbing his nose into the back of his neck and kissing the top of his ear.

“Tomorrow,” he decides, “I am going to get you oranges.”

“Good,” Nico mumbles sleepily. “I’ll let you win.”

***

**Author's Note:**

> i adore comments and hearing what you think!
> 
> (yes the title is from another Hozier song. no i dont regret anything)


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